Unraveled Path

If only reality aligned with desire, there would be no room for regret. But every wrong decision carried its own weight in remorse. And trying to right a wrong with another mistake only made things worse.

Selvia had learned that the hard way.

Seated in a booth at a modest restaurant, she absentmindedly stirred the remnants of her coffee, her mind drifting. Across from her sat Rika—a friend from her past. They had never been particularly close, yet today, Rika had done her a huge favor, helping her land a job as a life insurance agent.

"Thank you, Rika," Selvia said, her voice laced with sincerity.

Rika waved her off with a smile. "No need for that, Sel. I’m just helping where I can. The rest is up to you—finding clients, convincing them to sign up."

"I’ll do my best, Rik."

"Good. Then I’ll leave you to it. I hope you succeed, Sel."

"Thank you, Rika."

Selvia watched as Rika walked away, a lump forming in her throat.

Not long ago, she had been the one avoiding insurance agents, brushing them off with polite refusals. Now, the roles were reversed—she was the one chasing after potential clients.

She sighed, pushing herself up from the booth. "I should get home. Sitting here any longer will only tempt me to spend money I don’t have," she murmured.

As she stepped outside, the weight of her circumstances pressed down on her, making her chest ache. She wanted to cry, but who would she cry to?

"Selvi!"

A familiar voice made her stop. She turned, and the moment she saw the woman calling her name, something inside her softened.

"Diandra!"

Standing before her was Diandra—an old college friend.

"Selvi, it’s been ages!" Diandra’s eyes lit up as she pulled Selvia into a tight hug.

"Diandra…" Selvia barely managed a whisper before she felt her throat tighten, her eyes welling up. Before she could stop herself, the tears spilled over.

"Sel, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?"

Selvia shook her head, embarrassed. "I’m fine. Just… tired."

"Don’t lie to me. I know you too well." Diandra’s voice was gentle, filled with concern.

"You’re going through something, aren’t you?"

Selvia couldn’t bring herself to answer. She was too exhausted, too drained by the weight of her troubles.

"Where are you headed?" Diandra asked.

"Home. You?"

"Just picking up some dumplings for my kids."

"Oh… well, I should get going."

Diandra studied her, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. The woman standing before her was nothing like the Selvia she once knew.

Back in college, Selvia had been the campus idol—beautiful, radiant, always at the center of attention. She was adored by men, admired by women. But now, she was a shadow of her former self.

"Sel…" Diandra hesitated.

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure you’re okay?"

"I’m fine."

Diandra wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t push. Instead, she pulled out her phone. "Give me your number."

Selvia hesitated before handing it over.

"I’ll call you," Diandra promised.

"Alright, Di."

With a final smile, Diandra turned and walked into the restaurant.

Selvia, however, didn’t move. Something kept her rooted in place. She watched as Diandra reappeared moments later, carrying a paper bag. Then, a white Toyota Vellfire pulled up to the curb, sleek and polished. A chauffeur stepped out and opened the door for her.

Selvia’s stomach twisted.

The brief flicker of hope she had felt about reconnecting with Diandra vanished, replaced by an all-too-familiar sense of inadequacy.

"She must have married well," Selvia murmured, bitterness creeping into her voice. "A successful husband, a beautiful life. Some people are just born lucky."

Her chest tightened with something she didn’t want to name—envy.

Watching Diandra disappear into the car, Selvia felt the sharp sting of contrast between their lives.

She had always envied Diandra, though she had never admitted it out loud. Back in college, Diandra would often arrive late to campus, complaining about how slow her driver was.

"Ugh, I could get here faster if I drove myself," she had grumbled once.

Selvia had laughed. "Oh, come on, princess. You think you can escape being kidnapped? If a prince wanted to whisk you away, you’d go with him in a heartbeat."

Diandra huffed, feigning annoyance. "If that prince were Constantine Alexios of Greece, I wouldn’t even need to be kidnapped—I’d go willingly!"

They had laughed together, the way only close friends could. At the time, Selvia had felt lucky to have Diandra—a daughter of a parliament member, living a life most people could only dream of. But despite everything, Diandra had once told her something unexpected.

"I envy you, Sel."

"Why?" Selvia had frowned, genuinely puzzled.

"You’re beautiful. Every guy on campus is crazy about you."

Selvia sighed. "Don’t be ridiculous. You’re beautiful too, Di."

"I’m not even tall. I’m just average—only my fair skin stands out."

"That’s not true. You have that perfect Indo beauty, the best of both worlds."

Diandra had only chuckled, brushing it off. But Selvia had always known Diandra didn’t realize just how striking she was. With her British-Indonesian heritage from her mother and Javanese lineage from her father, Diandra had a beauty that turned heads. Her life had seemed effortless—her family was well-off, stable, untouched by hardship.

But time had pulled them apart. Selvia had become caught up in her relationship, while Diandra had drifted into her own world. And then, Selvia’s life had unraveled in ways she never expected. One party after another, one mistake after another, until…

She got pregnant.

She dropped out of college. Her world crumbled.

Yulius, the man responsible, had agreed to marry her despite his family’s objections. For a moment, she had thought marriage might be her salvation. But she was wrong. Yulius was nothing more than a spoiled man-child, still tethered to his mother. Their marriage was anything but happy.

And now, years later, she stood in a parking lot, watching Diandra’s car disappear, the gap between them feeling wider than ever.

She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders.

"I have to see Diandra again. At least… to offer her insurance," she whispered, as if that made it easier.

Her steps felt heavy, but she had no other choice. Moving forward was all she had left.